Moor Memories
by Squarepeg72
Summary: The fog of the Scottish moors reveals more than just the two people meeting there.


Written for Round 2 of Hermione Grangers' Personal Library Challenge in Hermione's Haven on FB

Music: Yours by Russell Dickerson, Never Seen Anything "Quite Like You" by The Script, Black is the Color of My True Love's Hair by Peter Hollens and Avi Kaplan, Porcelain Fists by Voices in Your Head

" _Whatever our souls are made of_ _, his and mine are the same." - Wuthering Heights_

* * *

Staring across the moor, Hermione waited for him. Her dark eyes scanning the land in front of her for any sign that he was returning. He had another mission, another risk, another person to save. And still, she waited.

Memories are vicious things. They ran through her mind and reminded her of the reasons why she should not be waiting. Arguments over ways to approach problems echoed as she looked over the moor, waiting for him. Her parting words beat like bludgers on her brain. "I will not miss you if you get yourself killed." It was a lie. She felt like she was missing half her soul, not knowing if he would ever return.

Walking along the stone wall, Hermione plucked a sprig of heather from the cracks. She knew better than to expect his owl to find her here. She had chosen this cottage in the Highlands so she could hide, from her feelings and from him. Being chased by memories was all the haunting she could handle right now.

Hermione watched a shadow wander across the moor beyond her wall. She had to be seeing things. He was chasing shadows in the streets of London, protecting everyone but himself. There was no way he had found her here. If it wasn't him, why did she feel like her heart was lost in the fog? Why did she feel like the peace she needed was beyond the wall?

Staring through the fog, Harry searched for her silhouette. His dark hair ruffling in the wind, he waited for her presence. She had another case to finish, another body to heal, another mystery to solve. And still, he waited.

Memories were heavy things. They weighed down his steps and pushed him to find what he was missing. Scenes flashed behind his closed eyelids, arguments and agreements, laughter over small things when they were together, and tears over large things neither of them could control. He had not meant to hurt her as he left her. "I cannot give you what you are searching for if I do not know what you truly need." It was a lie. He knew what she needed because it was what _he_ needed, a quiet space to call home.

Walking through the fog, Harry searched for the wall that lead to the hidden cottage. He knew she would run here when her temper cooled. He had run to the cottage before. The quiet of the Highlands left him room to think. He was tired of chasing her. But, he felt empty without her. Being haunted by echos of unspoken conversations was all he could carry right now.

Harry stood in the fog and waited. He could feel her approaching. He could feel the pieces of his shattered soul mending. He only felt this way when she was near. He had stopped asking questions about how he felt around her the first time she had kissed him. She was all the peace he needed. Now, all he had to do was convince her that they were better together than apart.

Harry's voice floated across the moor. "Hermione, I'm sorry," he whispered as he watched her shadowy form strip the flowers from the sprig of heather that she held. "I cannot do this without you. Please, let me in."

Hermione turned toward the voice she heard floating across the moor. "Why should I let you in? It hurts too much," she whispered into the wind. "I can't breathe when you leave me. Please, let me go."

"I can't let you go. You hold the light when my world gets too dark," Harry continued to whisper into the wind. He followed the wind and her whisper toward her shadowy figure at the wall. "You are the only thing that makes sense to my soul. I will not let that go."

"I feel so empty when you are gone. You take the light with you when you leave," Hermione watched the shadow in the fog take shape. She dropped her hand to the stone wall as she felt the walls around her heart crumble. "I only feel whole when you are with me. I don't know who I am without you. My soul aches when you are gone."

Harry's hand touched her cheek as she felt the first tear fall. "How do we fix this?" she asked as she let go of the hurt she had been hoarding. "How can you forgive me for what I said as you left? How do we survive the next time?"

Stepping over the wall, Harry pulled Hermione to his chest and tucked her head under his chin. "We go to to our cottage and we talk. I will let you see that I am not hurt." Harry began to run his fingers through her tangled curls. "Then we will rest in each others arms. We will sit in the quiet and let our souls mend each other."

"Is it really that simple?" her question floated up from the cocoon he had created with his arms. "Can we fix what breaks everytime you walk out the door alone just by talking and holding each other?"

"My precious witch, don't you know that you are the keeper of my soul? The light to my dark, the reason I come home every time?" Harry whispered his questions into the curls he continued to untangle. "You are my other half, and I cannot live without you."

"Then, we match, my love." Hermione whispered into his chest. "You are the piece that matches my jagged heart and makes me whole. You are my home."


End file.
